It was a chill week in Weiser/Boise staying at my folks and my sisters. Mostly bumming around, playing with the kids and relaxing. But, all good things must come to an end as I’ve yet to find a motorcycle adventuring gig that’d pay well enough to feed a family of five, or, even just myself, for that matter.

The date was July 24th, a Saturday. The big air show (remember, this trip has a real destination!) started in 2 days on the following Monday. With 700+ miles to cover, we figured it’d be doable in 1 day, even though it’d be a little bit of a stretch. That gave us a free day to bum around Memphis and see the sights.

While I had been touring around Colorado and visiting in Texas, my father was making his way from Idaho to Tennessee on his new to him R12RT. After the fact, we discovered that we’d missed each other in Grand Junction, CO, by just a couple of hours.

He’d arrived in Memphis the day prior and it was time for me to make my way to catch up with him there. I bid a silent farewell to Clint and his wife and tiptoed out to the garage at O’dark thirty.

The sunrise broke fairly late down in the bottom of the valley that Ouray, CO, sits in. The night before, I’d seen several places that looked hopeful for breakfast, and indeed they held true to their promise.

Over breakfast, I consulted the maps and GPS and called my buddy, Clint, to discuss plans for my arrival in Plano. Clint had already made arrangements for my arrival the next day, yet, my planned route called for 1300+ miles of mostly 2-lane roads between here and there. My previous slackardly days and road repair delays were starting to catch up with my plans to take the long winding roads to Texas. A bit of ciphering, and I figure it’s doable, with a slight modification.

Little did I realize, 500 miles and 10 hours later, I’d only be 64 miles (as the crow files) away from my starting point!

Last year I passed through Tonopah around breakfast time and found a very limited few choices. The motel clerk recommended the restaurant at the Ramada and it was indeed better than the Banc Club. The Ramada was practically like a mining museum with all sorts of equipment stashed throughout for decor. I had a few burdensome quarters that I intended to lighten from pockets on the way through the casino, but not a single one armed bandit accepted quarters. Very few actually had any vestige of an arm for which to pick your pocket with.

And yet, one of them somehow managed to lighten my wallet of a dollar bill — guess that’s why they don’t take coins any more…

And so begins the tale of what turned into a 7K mile motorcycle adventure on my trusty 2008 BMW F800ST. The “final” destination is Oshkosh, WI to catch the big airshow that happens each year around the end of July. Some of you may be thinking this all sounds so familiar, but, with an extra week, 40% more miles, better roads, more solo time, more destinations, and … Let’s just say turned into a much different trip for me than the prior year’s adventure.